บท 14: Coldplay ( I love u part 4
I only needed to feel your lyrics.
Sometimes I'd smoke, despite quitting two decades ago. I'd almost always weep. Sometimes I played your old CD, the one from a broken-down Taurus on an interstate. I'd think about how young and foolish we were. At that bar. At that lake. Wrapped in a blanket. I'd think of the experiences we shared [if you don't remember them, it's because you were never there].
I'd count how much was stolen in the wake of the pandemic.
During the weeks we prepared to move, I played a new song on repeat, the one where you promise to try and fix me. On those midnight rendezvous, no matter the climate, I'd open the Jeep's windows and allow tears to stream down my face. I didn't need to see you walking in slow motion anymore or being pummeled by a lake. Your words alone captured what it was like to lose something that can't be replaced. You vowed lights would guide me home, so I'd whisper, "Ok Chris, take me."
Then I'd twist my hair back, turn the ignition, and find my way back in reverse, traversing dirt roads, side streets, bridges, and highways. It didn't matter the open patch of earth I chose to leave. Roads connected, intertwined, braided together intimately. Sometimes it took hours to unweave, but every time I made it home and pulled into the garage, headlights off, silent.
Then I'd crawl under the covers, hold my breath and wait. Because Drew always rolled over and put his arms around my waist. I'd nuzzle close. Exhale. Breathe.
When I couldn't get out of bed after cleaning out the classroom I thought I'd never leave, Drew did the same thing, only he climbed in next to me. I didn't expect that one to level me.
But it did. Like an 8.7 earthquake. After the violent rattling, I learned something about you in that moment, and something about that lake. We need to return to that brutal shore and stare eye to eye again. I was naive. I didn't know any better back then. I needed to cut through the wind, wipe the mist from my eyes, and really see. I never needed you, Chris Martin. Not once. Those places we traversed were mere satellites of my own center of gravity. I was born and bred on that land; I understand every lakeshore, violet hill, and midnight sky intuitively. Those roads, those paths, even the interstate, guide me without you singing.So good-bye, Chris Martin.
Love,
E.B.
end
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